


Every Holmes has a Gift

by PaperDaydream



Category: Doctor Who, MerWhoLock, Merlin (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cute brotherly stuff, Gen, John is confused, Magic and aliens and deductions oh my!, MerWhoLock - Freeform, Merlin and Sherlock are brothers, Post magic reveal to Arthur, Secret Magic, Some mentions of childhood, Takes place in Sherlock's universe, The Doctor is part of a case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 14,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1600577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperDaydream/pseuds/PaperDaydream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The door peeked open, and out stepped a young man John had never seen before. He reminded him of someone, with his pale skin, high cheekbones, and dark hair… Even if it was straight instead of curly behind his oversized ears and his eyes were a darker blue than he was used to... Sherlock gave a weak smile at John's shocked expression. "John, meet my little brother, Merlin Holmes."<br/>Merlin is Sherlock's little brother, and shows up at the flat looking for somewhere to stay after a reveal gone horribly wrong. Meanwhile, the game is afoot as the three investigate a mysterious blue box that keeps showing up alongside various murders around London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Suspiscions

John Watson walked in through the door to 221B Baker Street looking irritated, just as he always did after a trip to get groceries. “Sherlock!” he called, “I’m back!”

He didn’t expect Sherlock to answer. His flat mate was probably waiting for him to let him borrow his phone, or pass him a pen, or something, but he wasn’t exactly the type to welcome you home.

That’s why the next events came as such a surprise.

There was a loud crash, and then a horrified gasp, and then Sherlock came sprinting through the flat to the door to meet him, looking surprisingly frazzled for such a usually…inhuman person. “Ah… John, glad to see you’re back!” Sherlock gasped.

John sighed. “You too, I suppose. I got the groceries…” he held up the bag to show him. “Now what on Earth is going on in here?”

Sherlock stiffened. “…Nothing, John. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“What did you do, Sherlock? I may not be a genius, but it hardly takes one to know that you’re lying.” John said, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me… Some sort of battle, that’d explain the crash… Or did you just get bored again?”

Sherlock looked nervously over his shoulder. “Did you get the tea, John?”

“We have plenty. You’re not distracting me.”

Sherlock gave him a pleading look. “John…”

“Come on then, I live here too. You at least owe me an explanation!” John cried, getting quickly fed up with his childish flat-mate.

“I live here too, and I can at least have some secrets, can’t I?” Sherlock snapped back.

John glared at him. “Let me think about it… NO. You cannot! Your secrets usually involve near death experiences and a lot of trouble. Don’t make me call Mycroft!”

There was a loud scraping noise upstairs.

“What was that?” John asked.

“Uh… nothing. You were saying?” Sherlock responded quickly, glancing unconsciously towards the noise.

“Sherlock… I have never seen you so jumpy before. EVER! What is going on?!” John yelled.

Sherlock shrugged. “It’s… really nothing. Just… a rat.”

“That is the most unbelievable lie you have ever told. Something’s wrong.” John pointed out, walking past him towards the stairs.

“Of course, now you’d choose to not be an idiot.” Sherlock muttered irritably as he followed him.

“Guess you’re rubbing off on me then,” John sighed.

Sherlock smirked, crossing in front of him at the top of the stairs. “Fine. I guess it will be easier this way.”

John looked confused. “Sherlock, what…?”

“Come on out, then, he’s a friend!” Sherlock called.

The door peeked open, and out stepped a young man John had never seen before. He reminded him of someone, with his pale skin, high cheekbones, and dark hair… Even if it was straight instead of curly behind his oversized ears and his eyes were a darker blue than he was used to...

Sherlock gave a weak smile at John’s shocked expression. “John, meet my little brother, Merlin Holmes.”


	2. Does Anyone Have a Blanket?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is in shock that Sherlock never even told him about his brother.

“WHAT?! There’s _another_ one?!” John cried, shocked. “Any more secret relatives you’d like to reveal, _Sherlock?!”_

Sherlock shook his head. “No. Merlin, though, he…”

“What?! Because with your family, I think I’ve heard it all! _Seriously!_ What’s this Holmes like, Sherlock? Because he can’t possibly be a random innocent citizen, being in _your_ family!” John realized that that was a bit out of line right after he’d said it, but he was seriously hurt that Sherlock had kept this from him. Even for Sherlock, this was really insensitive.

Merlin stood awkwardly next to the door, saying nothing and turning redder by the second, clearly humiliated.

“You don’t understand!” Sherlock shouted, furiously. “Merlin isn’t like Mycroft and I; he isn’t like anyone! Now I get why you may be cross with me, but don’t take it out on him!”

Merlin frowned. “I-I’m sorry Sherlock… I didn’t realize… I… ehm… Shouldn’t have come…” He moved from the door to try to hurry past them, apparently to leave.

Sherlock barred his way with an arm. “It’s okay, Merlin. You didn’t do anything wrong. John’s just a little surprised, aren’t you John?” He glared at him.

John was shocked. Merlin’s attempted exit hadn’t felt very “Holmes”-like at all. It actually was kind of… selfless, in appearance. That was new.

“Uh… Yeah. Sorry, Merlin.” John sighed, feeling a little bit bad for frightening him now. Sherlock was right. This was between them.

Sherlock, unsurprisingly, followed his train of thought. “Maybe you want to unpack for a minute?” he asked his brother.

Merlin nodded, quickly, apparently relieved to get away from the war zone between John and Sherlock. He turned and ran back into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Downstairs?” Sherlock suggested, looking toward the door.

John followed his gaze. “Yes. That’d be good.”

They hurried down, meeting in the kitchen.

“How did I never know about this?” John hissed.

“Please, John. I would’ve thought you knew me better than that by now.” Sherlock snorted.

John shook his head, taking a deep breath, trying not to give in to the ‘punch me in the face’ subtext. “I guess… But what about Mycroft? Why hasn’t he mentioned him?”

Sherlock smiled, weakly. “We just… don’t really talk about him that much.”

“BUT HE’S YOUR _BROTHER_ SHERLOCK!!! HOW COULD I _NOT_ KNOW?!” John protested.

Sherlock gave a pointed look upstairs. “John, I know it may be hard for you to believe, being an idiot, as you are, but he’s really _very_ sensitive, so if you wouldn’t mind keeping it down a little…”

“ _Really?_ A sensitive Holmes? That’s a new one! Because surely _Merlin_ would have told me about _both_ of his brothers!” John snapped.

“Merlin…” Sherlock sighed, “I’ll admit, is not exactly normal. But do not go around treating him like a freak! He has done that to himself quite enough! Now, John. I’m sorry we never mentioned our brother before, but you know how protective Mycroft gets of me?”

John snorted. “What, you mean with the military surveillance and all?”

Sherlock chuckled, darkly. “Multiply that by about a billion.”

“But _why?_ ” John asked, having finally cooled down a bit, and now feeling simply annoyed “Why do you two worry so much?!”

Sherlock looked away. “Look. Merlin is going to stay here for a short time. As time goes on, he’s going to begin to seem almost like the ‘Normal Holmes’ to you, I suppose. Well, don’t be deceived. If you think Mycroft and I are unique… Of course, I’m not really open to discussing that right now, or ever for that matter.”

“Why?” John inquired, frustrated.

“Because,” Sherlock sighed, “People may call me a freak, but if Merlin is ever discovered, his life will be at risk. That’s why he needs to stay here for a while. In any case, he _is_ certainly easier for most people to live with than I am.”

“Just like everyone else in the world’s population,” John muttered.

“You see?” Sherlock asked, grinning. “Pretty good, for a Holmes! Just give him a chance.”

John sighed, feeling himself caving in. “Fine. But he is _not_ taking my room!”

Sherlock looked relieved. “I’ll go tell him then.”

John nodded. “You do that.”

Sherlock ran up the stairs, looking quite pleased with himself, as always.

However, John’s head was buzzing with questions like a hive of bees on caffeine. Why was Sherlock acting so human? Why was Merlin such a secret, and who was he, exactly? And what made him unique enough to be a Holmes?


	3. The Adventures Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and John talk, and Sherlock gets a call about a case.

The next morning, John woke up and walked downstairs, noticing Sherlock holding his violin.   
That was interesting… Sherlock played more frequently, John had found, when emotional or troubled.  
Of course, it had been an interesting night.   
Merlin lay on the couch nearby, reading peacefully to himself.  
John walked over to him. “What are you reading?” he asked.  
Merlin shrugged, turning the cover towards him.   
It was The Hobbit.   
“Have you ever read it?” Merlin asked.   
“Yes,” John replied, “It’s a pretty good book.”  
Merlin shrugged again, returning to his reading.  
“Hey,” John sighed, “I’m sorry about last night…”  
Merlin set the book down and smiled, his expression appearing much brighter than any John believed he had ever seen on his older brothers. “Oh, no. Of course. I… ehm… Shouldn’t have just dropped in on you like that… Sorry about Sherlock not warning you, he can be a bit of a prat.”  
John laughed. Sherlock was right; this boy really was quite different from his brothers. “Oh, yes… Certainly. Did you know that he’s asked me to fetch his phone from a jacket he’s currently wearing before?”  
Merlin chuckled. “That sounds like him. You should have seen him when we were kids! ‘Merlin, get me some coffee! Merlin, I want my spyglass! Merlin…!’ You’d have thought I was his servant!”  
They were both laughing now.   
Sherlock put down his violin and glared at them. “Obviously, I get a little busy sometimes! It is a rather difficult job, you know, for the average mind!”  
“Oh, like you’re average!” Merlin scoffed.   
Sherlock shot him a death-glare, but smirked noticeably. He then started playing something on his instrument that sounded vaguely annoyed and yet somehow slightly arrogant.  
Merlin winked at John. “You’ll figure out how to handle him.”  
John laughed. “What about you, then? Are you a genius too?”  
“Oh…” Merlin said, quietly, “Ehm… I don’t know…”  
Sherlock snorted. “Please! What’s that word they started using when you were three months old? Wise?”  
Merlin blushed. “Yeah, but I’m no deductive mastermind! I mean…”  
Sherlock laughed. “Whatever. You don’t need to be!”  
Suddenly, they both looked nervously towards John, and then hastily away.  
John gave them a hurt look, to which Merlin looked ashamed and muttered a quick “Sorry…” but then mentioned something about sightseeing and left.  
“What was that all about?” John asked Sherlock.  
Sherlock put his violin down. “He’s just really humble.”  
“I can see that, but why so jumpy?” John asked.  
Sherlock sighed. “Obviously, I don’t want to talk about it and neither does he. He doesn’t need to get in anymore trouble right now.”  
“Sherlock… he’s not a criminal, is he?” John asked, suspiciously.  
“Really?” Sherlock snorted, “A criminal? I take it back, your deduction skills are awful.”  
John chuckled, but then stared at him. “Why, then?”  
“Why what?” asked Sherlock, rosining his bow.   
“Why seek help here?” John asked. “I’ve never seen Merlin before. Clearly, this is no vacation. It’s a refuge.”   
Sherlock smiled. “Very good, John! You’re finally asking the right questions! Someone found out Merlin’s secret. He felt safest here with me.”  
John was puzzled. “What secret could possibly be endangering him?”  
Sherlock glared at him. “Drop the subject, John.”  
Suddenly, Sherlock’s phone began to ring. He answered and as he listened a smile slowly spread across his face.  
“YES! A MURDER! We’ve got a case!” He leapt up and down like an excited child, before bursting out the door.  
John sighed. He would never get used to his crazy flat-mate… But honestly, he wouldn’t want it any other way.  
He left the building, and Sherlock was already gone by the time he got outside. He called a taxi, and got in.  
“Scotland Yard,” he directed the cabby, and off they went.


	4. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not easy to hide something that plays a tremendous role in your life.

Merlin was not, in fact, going sightseeing. He didn’t really know where he’d go, or what he’d do if he would have gone. It had simply been too intense in there. He was, in fact, just at the door to the building.

Why had Sherlock told John that he had a secret? That only ever made people curious… Which he simply couldn’t afford.

It even made him want to give himself away sometimes… To let someone, anyone else know… Just to not be so alone…

Merlin began to pace.

He didn’t know what to do now. He had nowhere to go, nothing to do! He was bored. Completely and utterly bored out of his mind. If he didn’t do something, he would surely die of it! He just couldn’t hold back any longer.

He looked quickly back and forth, and seeing nobody, smiled, a bright, and mischievous and yet slightly guilty smile. Nobody would stop him here.

 _“Forbaernen!”_ he whispered, and a small flame lit in his hand.

 _Pretending to be normal is boring,_ Merlin thought, staring at the dancing flame in his palm. _Why does it have to be this way, anyway? Why does it need to be secret? I would never use my magic for evil, not on my life, and yet those who discovered me would have me dead or dissected! Are they really so intolerant of anything unique?!_

Merlin frowned, eyebrows scrunched in distress. It was the worst feeling in the world, to have to hide himself constantly. He could never ever be straightforward about himself with anybody, because, as his brothers had warned him numerous times, nobody could be trusted.

If he told the truth, he died. It was that simple.

Maybe Sherlock was right. Caring certainly didn’t feel like an advantage… But somehow, Merlin just couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t drive it out of him, the empathy, the kindness, the sensitivity, the desire for friendship… The resulting loneliness… Sherlock was a stronger man than he. Merlin knew that. He always had.

Merlin wondered what it was like, not being him. He wondered what it felt like to never feel like you could call up your powers and use them, to lose the protection and security it provided. To not feel the energy source he had at his core that he felt gave him life… To never feel the power that resonated throughout every cell of his being, the magic that felt like soft and shimmering and mysterious moonlight, mixed with a warm and comforting, and yet fierce fire deep within him, always present, always burning, waiting to be released like a great caged thing.

Magic was like a heart or brain to him. It was a vital part of his system. It was so familiar that he didn’t know any different.

He didn’t just possess magic, he truly _was_ magic.

He was just like Sherlock, in a way. Just as an average mind seemed unimaginably boring to his brother, Merlin knew he’d be utterly lost without his magic. He couldn’t understand how normal people handled it sometimes.

Suddenly, as Merlin sat there thinking, Sherlock came running down the stairs, beaming. Merlin looked up. He knew that expression well. It was his older brother’s “I’ve-got-a-case” face.

Of course, he also knew how his brother reacted when he used his magic…

“Merlin!” Sherlock gasped, looking in shock at the little flame in his palm. “Extinguish that now! What were you thinking?! Using magic in a building like this…!”

Merlin looked up at him, ashamed. “Sorry, Sherlock. I was bored!”

“Well, hurry up!” Sherlock cried, frantically, “Put it out now and stop being such an idiot before someone sees! John’s coming!”

Merlin complied instantly, eyes wide in sudden fear. “Sorry!” he hissed.

“Come on!” Sherlock growled, irritated by his brother’s carelessness, “We don’t want to make him suspicious. Let’s go!”

Merlin sighed, and ran after his brother out the door to catch a cab.


	5. A New Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock learns more about his new case, and Merlin meets Lestrade.

 

As John walked in, he was surprised to see Merlin waiting beside his brother.

“Weren’t you sightseeing?” he asked.

Merlin shrugged. “I got bored, and Sherlock picked me up on the way here.”

John smiled a little at how similar the word “bored” made the two sound. “Alright.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, impatiently. “Let’s go!” and with that took off to go find Lestrade.

John and Merlin exchanged a glance at his typical disregard for manners, and followed.

“Freak’s here!” Sally announced, rolling her eyes as Sherlock walked by, and Anderson gave a disgusted snort and left the room.

Inspector Lestrade was already briefing Sherlock on the case when John and Merlin caught up.

“There have been eight murders so far! We don’t know where the killer will strike next! It seems completely random! They’ve just been popping up _everywhere!”_ Lestrade explained, looking frustrated.

“Out of _nowhere?_ In front of a _tremendous_ crowd?” Sherlock mused, hands steepled in front of his face. “Fascinating. What could the motive be…? It seems rather careless to kill in such a fashion… Easy to be caught…” His eyes gleamed as if all these murders had been a special gift, a smile twisting the edge of his mouth at the thought of such an interesting case.

Lestrade shrugged, waving John over to join them. “Yes. It does. Unfortunately, nobody has caught who exactly it is. The truly ‘interesting’ part as you may see it, though, is that the crowd insists each time a murder happens that a telephone box had materialized out of _nowhere_ just moments before. It’s never been seen by the force, though… Until now.”

Sherlock looked ready to burst with excitement, and despite his usual disgust for such actions, gave a little bounce of joy in his seat. But John was puzzled. “But… How could it-”

However, it was at that moment that Lestrade finally noticed Merlin behind him. “Um… Hello? Who exactly are you?” he asked, confused.

Sherlock sighed. “How bad can your deduction skills _be?!”_ he asked, clearly annoyed by the force’s stupidity.

“What do you mean?” snapped Lestrade, “He’s a total stranger! This is hardly my division!”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically, and went to stand by Merlin, as if that explained everything and then some.

Lestrade just stared at him. “…So?”

Merlin sighed. “You can’t just make things easy for people, can you, Sherlock?” Then he walked up to the inspector. “Merlin Holmes,” he introduced himself, shaking his hand. “I’m Sherlock’s brother.”

Sally, who stood nearby, looked horrified. “Not _another_ freak!”

Merlin turned pink, and Sherlock glared at her in irritation. “Could you leave please? The levels of idiocy in this room are so strong that they hurt! I don’t know _what_ I may do under these conditions…!”

Sally glared back at him, but also appeared slightly intimidated, and left.

John blinked in surprise. Sherlock had gotten pretty upset. Normally, Donovan hardly fazed him and failed to elicit more than an irritated comment or a glare. Sherlock actually seemed legitimately bothered this time.

“…So? Little brother, huh?” Lestrade asked, shaking off his own surprise. “Where have you been all this time?”

Merlin shrugged. “College.”

Lestrade nodded. “Taking a break?”

“…Of sorts, yes.” Merlin replied, elusively.

Lestrade couldn’t say he was surprised by Merlin’s antisocial behavior. In fact, the fact that the youngest Holmes boy wasn’t outright insulting everyone yet was in itself remarkable. He shrugged to himself, and turned back to Sherlock. “So, will Merlin be helping out with this case?”

Sherlock frowned, but before he could deny the offer, Merlin spoke up. “I…I’d like to…” He looked pleadingly up at his brother. “Please, Sherlock?”

“Absolutely not.” Sherlock replied, quickly.

“But… I promise I’ll stay out of the way! Really, I will! I’ll do whatever you say! Please…” Merlin begged.

“No.” Sherlock repeated, seriously.

“But… I have nothing else to do! You wouldn’t want me to get _bored_ , would you?” Merlin asked, smiling mischievously to himself, clearly sensing a win.

To John’s surprise, Sherlock winced. “ _Merlin,”_ he snapped, “That is _not_ funny!”

“Neither is murder, but you won’t let me help out!” Merlin shot back.

“Exactly. It’s not a game!” Sherlock snapped.

John snickered. “That’s not how you treat our investigations!” he pointed out.

“Not. Helping!” Sherlock growled through his teeth, only managing to make him more amused.

“Sherlock…” Merlin began again. “Sherlock… Come on…”

“What harm would it do?” asked Lestrade.

“You can’t just shut him in the flat!” John pointed out, sensibly.

“Fine!” Sherlock shouted, “Just everybody SHUT UP!!!”

Merlin beamed. “Yay! I knew you’d come around!” He grabbed his brother in a tight hug, which, of course, Sherlock didn’t take well, shrugging him away, as John laughed at the whole interaction.

“Just this once,” Sherlock warned him, “And no funny business. If I tell you to do something, you do it! Even if I tell you to leave me to die in a fight, you _cannot_ step in.”

Merlin frowned, clearly unsettled by the rules set in place. John couldn’t say what Sherlock was implying was very comforting to him either. “But-” Merlin began to argue.

“Promise me.” Sherlock said, in a no-nonsense tone.

Merlin sighed. “I promise.”

Lestrade smiled, weakly. “Well… Now that that’s all sorted out…”

Sherlock nodded. “We’ll take the case. John, let’s go! We’re going to see that phone box!”

He ran from the building, without another word, and with an apologetic glance at Lestrade, Merlin and John followed.


	6. The Impossible Blue Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock, John and Merlin decide to start their investigation off by checking out a strange blue box.

The very second they got to the crime scene; Sherlock took one look at the phone box and got that obnoxious “I-think-we-all-know-what’s-going-on-here” look on his face.

“Strange…” he muttered, smirking, and he walked straight up to the box.

“What?!” John asked, “Don’t you go being all mysterious again! What is it?!”

Sherlock snorted. “Come on John! It’s so obvious!”

“No!” John snapped, “It’s not!”

“Merlin?” Sherlock asked.

Merlin looked hesitantly at his brother. “Ehm… It’s blue?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes at his brother’s ridiculously obvious observation. “Honestly!” He pointed to the top of the box. “What does that say?”

“Police Public Call Box,” John read aloud, “So?”

Sherlock groaned, frustrated. “So, when was the last time you saw a ‘Police Public Call Box?’ Do you even know what that is?”

“No,” Merlin replied, unfazed by his attitude, “What is it?”

“A Police Public Call Box is a telephone kiosk for use by the public to call the police, obviously. However, the phone is behind a hinged door so it can be used from the outside and the inside functions as a sort of mini police station. This one in particular is a genuine 1960’s model. You don’t know of them because you _are_ idiots, yes, but also because they were thrown into disuse by the new era of mobile communication.” Sherlock said, in the typical rapid fire fashion the two could only catch due to years of experience.

John sighed. “So it’s old? So what?”

Merlin blinked. “Well… it is sort of odd, don’t you think?”

Sherlock nodded. “ _Yes!_ Please explain to John! He’s being an idiot.”

Merlin shook his head. “Now, Sherlock. There’s no need to be arrogant,” Then, turning to John, he muttered, “Look, it’s practically in mint condition!”

John looked surprised. “So… somebody has been restoring it…?”

“No,” Sherlock replied, looking frustrated, “And that’s what’s so strange! It is still _completely_ original! But how can that be?! It’s impossible!”

Merlin looked puzzled. “But… Maybe it’s a replica?”

Sherlock shook his head. “Wrong! It’s genuine! Look at the handiwork! 1960’s, Merlin! That is not modern! And the mud on the bottom!”

“What about the mud?” John asked.

“When was the last time it rained?” Merlin asked Sherlock, slowly.

“EXACTLY!” Sherlock cried, beaming. “This box _has_ moved!”

John frowned. “Wait a minute… Sherlock! Can I talk to you?!”

Sherlock shrugged, following him a few steps away.

“Do you seriously believe all those crazy people who think this box came from nowhere?!” John hissed, annoyed.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Sherlock admitted, grudgingly, “But something is very wrong about that box! We have to consider all options-”

 _“Sherlock_ … It didn’t just… Fall out of the sky, or something! That’s _impossible!”_ John pointed out, frowning as he remembered a certain incident with some “impossible” hounds.

Sherlock looked irritated. “I know! I know it is, John! But I haven’t found a reasonable explanation yet!”

“Sherlock! Magic does not exist!” John cried, exasperated. _He knows that! We have to be missing something…_

Sherlock froze suddenly. “Brilliant,” he whispered.

“What? What is?” John asked suspiciously, instantly recognizing the look on his face.

“No,” Sherlock replied absently, “Ignore me, I’m just… Thinking aloud. Of course, you’re right. Give me a moment… Merlin!” he called, running towards his brother.

John watched as the two of them quickly conferred. Sherlock whispered something in Merlin’s ear, but after a brief hesitation, the boy shook his head and they hurried back over to John.

“What then…” Sherlock muttered to himself, “How could this…?”

“What was that all about?” John asked.

The brothers exchanged a glance.

“I was just assuring Sherlock that you’re right,” Merlin told him. “He’s being ridiculous. There has to be a reasonable explanation for all this.”

John nodded. “Don’t go all Hounds of Baskerville on me,” he warned his friend, concerned, but Sherlock wasn’t listening.

“Look over there,” he muttered, pointing back to the box, “What is she doing?”

A young woman with short blond hair was quietly approaching the box. She looked as if she was about to go inside…

“Hey!” John shouted to her, “What do you think you’re doing?! That box is under police investigation!”

“So is she,” Sherlock replied, “Now, at any rate. Look at her. She’s not just a tourist; she’s too familiar with the box. Besides, look! There’s mud on her shoes! There must be a connection… but what?”

Having heard John, the girl walked over to them.

“Who are you?” Sherlock asked, coldly.

“Are you part of the police, then?” she asked him.

“I’m a consulting detective,” Sherlock replied, “Working this case. The name’s Sherlock Holmes. That’s my friend, John Watson, and my brother, Merlin. Now. What is your connection to that box?”

“Really?” she asked, surprised. “Sherlock Holmes?!”

“Oh dear,” Sherlock sighed, “She’s a fan!”

John smirked. “Maybe she’d talk to you if you put on your hat?” he suggested, amused by Sherlock’s irritation.

He scowled. “Shut up.”

“Oh my goodness,” Merlin laughed, “That hat made my life! It’s a very good look for you, Sherlock!”

“SHUT UP!” Sherlock shouted, turning bright red, “THAT DEERSTALKER WASN’T MINE!!!”

Merlin and John laughed, none of them noticing in their banter as their sole suspect ran frantically off in pursuit of a group of people who’d just run around the corner.


	7. Chases and Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio loses their suspect, but they find an interesting clue.

"I can’t believe you lost her!” John grumbled.

“Not everything is my fault, you know!” Sherlock protested. “Blame Merlin!”

“Is that your excuse?” Merlin snorted, “Just like when we were kids! ‘Oh no, mummy, _Merlin_ left the decapitated head in the fridge. What? No! I’m just playing with my unicorn!’”

Sherlock glared at him. “At least _I_ was _lying_ about the unicorn!”

Merlin blushed, and John gave him a funny look.

“If boys can like horses, why can’t they like horses with horns?” Merlin asked, defensively. “You’d think that’d be cooler…”

“Yeah. _Cool._ Stuffed animals.” Sherlock snorted.

“I was four, Sherlock!” Merlin protested. “You were thirteen! That’s hardly fair!”

John chuckled, but looked pointedly at the retreating figure in front of them. “Come on! She’s getting away!”

Sherlock nodded, picking up the pace to a full-scale sprint. Soon enough, however, Merlin was falling behind.

“Wait…” he panted, “Guys… I… Sorry…”

Sherlock didn’t stop, but called back, “Keep _up_ , Merlin!”

John, however, held back to wait for him. “Are you okay? You look a little pale…”

“I…I’m… fine…” Merlin gasped, but toppled over sideways.

John caught him. “You should sit down,” he pointed out.

“No… The suspect…” Merlin wheezed.

“Merlin. You just about passed out. Sit down. I’ll get Sherlock.” John said, seriously.

Merlin shook his head. “I’ll sit, go on without me,” he offered, embarrassed.

“You sure?” John asked.

“JOHN!” Sherlock shouted, “She’s getting away!”

Merlin nodded, “Go on.”

John nodded back, and ran off after Sherlock.

“Where’d she go?” John panted.

Sherlock groaned. “We lost her!” he shouted, “Again! _What_ were you doing?!”

John frowned. “It’s Merlin, he-”

“MERLIN!” Sherlock yelled, “Your fooling around cost us the chase!”

Merlin ran up to them, looking flushed and ashamed. “S-sorry…”

“He just about passed out back there!” John pointed out, annoyed, “He needed to rest!”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I knew this would happen. Merlin, either keep up or go home!”

“That’s not fair!” John shot back, “He tried!”

“And failed!” Sherlock pointed out, “We _lost_ her, John!”

“Sorry… I just… I couldn’t keep up… You are more athletic than I, Sherlock,” Merlin admitted, quietly.

“I knew it,” Sherlock muttered, angrily, “I knew this was a bad idea…”

Suddenly, however, John noticed something.

“Hey… Sherlock… You may want to see this…” he called as he walked over to the object.

Sherlock blinked, and walked after his flat mate to take a look.

Merlin stared at the thing. “What on Earth is _that?”_ he asked.

They both turned to Sherlock, who shrugged.

“It’s odd… this isn’t reminding me of anything I’ve ever seen before...” He muttered, picking it up and cupping it in his hands.

“Merlin?” he asked, suddenly, “What about you?”

John was puzzled. “Why ask him? He looks just as confused as me…”

“Are you jealous, John?” Sherlock asked, looking amused.

John scowled. “No!”

“Merlin has a certain expertise in some artifacts,” Sherlock explained, “And knows a lot about things even I keep my nose out of.”

“Really?” John asked, curious. “What kind of expertise?”

Merlin shrugged, shyly. “Oh, you know... I just know a little about spotting certain… abnormalities here and there in objects, nothing nearly as impressive as Sherlock is suggesting.”

John seriously doubted that Merlin’s talent was anything less than extremely impressive for Sherlock to acknowledge it, but didn’t press him.

“So?” Sherlock asked, impatiently.

Merlin shook his head. “This is very advanced science, Sher.”

 _“Sher?!”_ John snickered.

“Shut up!” Sherlock snapped. “Merlin, how is this possible?! You must be getting _something!_ None of this makes any sense!” He paced around in a frustrated circle, hands steepled in front of his nose.

Merlin shrugged. “Like I said, _very_ advanced science!” Then, as if choosing his words carefully, “Almost… _inhuman. Otherworldly._ Sherlock, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Sherlock nodded slowly. “Okay, I think I get it…”

Merlin smiled. “Am I forgiven?”

“Momentarily, yes.” Sherlock responded, curtly.

John just stood there, dumbfounded. “What is this, Keep-John-in-the-Dark day?”

“No, it’s John-Won’t-Believe-This-Until-There’s-More-Proof day,” Sherlock replied. “I want to take this home for analysis. Come on.”

Sherlock lifted the soft, glowing, tentacled rock, and off they went.


	8. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin interrupts Sherlock's late night investigating.

It was one o’clock in the morning. Sherlock wasn’t asleep.

He didn’t know why he kept trying to figure out the rock-like-object. Merlin had already as good as told him it would be worthless to analyze. Sherlock didn’t like to do worthless things.

But he didn’t care. He couldn’t stand not knowing. He _had_ to know! He had to understand all of this! It was driving him mad!

John didn’t know he was still up. Sherlock knew he’d have made him go to bed. Like he needed sleep! It was such a wasteful thing! Sleep took away from his cases and experiments, and therefore it was a hindrance to him.

He chipped a small sample off the thing with a dissecting knife and slid it under the microscope to examine it as closely as possible, right down to the atoms.

Just as he’d thought. Carbon. This “rock” was made of organic material.

Sherlock smiled. It seemed that Merlin had been wrong about not being able to find out much. He was making progress already.

He looked over at his little brother, lying curled up on the couch. He looked so small in his sleep… So young… Not that Sherlock was being sentimental. No. Only ordinary people were sentimental. Boring people.

But Merlin didn’t appear to be having very peaceful dreams…

Sherlock’s brother let out a small cry of fear, muffled by his pillow, and he deduced quickly from the way that his shoulders were heaving that he was crying in his sleep.

 _Not again! I thought his nightmares had gotten better since he started at Camelot…_ _Ever since he’s made friends at the school, at any rate. Friends. Doesn’t he get sick of the idiots?_ Sherlock shook his head. Merlin was always so friendly and loyal… and look what had happened! He’d warned him that friends would endanger his secret… Caring was _not_ an advantage.

Merlin had cared though, and the nightmares were back. With a dramatic sigh, Sherlock reluctantly stood and left his experiment to go wake him up. After all, he couldn’t have Merlin disturbing John…

“Merlin,” he hissed, shaking his shoulder, “Merlin! Wake up!”

His brother moaned, and sprawled out flat on the couch, but continued shuddering in his sleep. “No…” he whispered, “Arthur… Uther…”

Sherlock frowned at the names. “Get _up!_ Quit being an idiot!” he muttered, and pushed him off the couch.

_He’s such a heavy sleeper! How has he kept himself safe all these years? What if he had used magic in his sleep and Arthur had seen him?_

Merlin let out a gasp as he hit the floor and his eyes flew open, wild with terror.

“It was only a dream.” Sherlock informed him, bending down to kneel beside him.

Merlin shook his head. “No… I-It can’t have been…” he gasped.

Sherlock frowned. “What do you mean ‘It can’t have been’? I just woke you up. Obviously, it was a nightmare, judging by your whimpering, a bad one, but still. It was only a dream.”

“Arthur knows…” Merlin whispered, looking distressed, “He knows about my magic!”

“Yes…” Sherlock replied, slowly, “He does. But you’re here now. You’re safe. Go back to sleep. I have work to do.”

He turned to go, but Merlin grabbed onto him. “Sherlock…” he whispered, “It _wasn’t_ just a dream…”

Sherlock sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to play the big brother role a while longer. “What then, a flashback?”

“No…” Merlin murmured, “It’s never happened before, but it _was_ real…”

“No,” Sherlock corrected him, “It was a dream. It _felt_ real.”

Merlin shook his head.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I suppose you’re going to tell me your dream, then?” he asked, sarcastically.

“It did start with a flashback,” Merlin sighed, ignoring his brother’s attitude, “The whole reveal and everything… But then suddenly I was caged in this white room with really bright lights… and… and… Uther was there… He did all these things to me, Sherlock! Experiments! Terrible experiments! I thought I was going to die…”

Despite himself, Sherlock felt a chill creep up his spine. However, his voice came out as calm as ever. “We both know what could have happened when they found out, Merlin, but it didn’t. You’re okay.”

“It wasn’t an alternate reality,” Merlin whispered. “It was too real… And…” he shook his head, eyes wide in shock, “My magic was at work. I could feel it. I… I think I just saw the future!”

Sherlock froze. _What?!_ “Are you sure?”

Merlin nodded. “Pretty sure. It was a lot like Morgana always described her nightmares…”

_NO! He has to be mistaken! That can’t be his future! We already prevented it! This is impossible!_

“What else happened in this… vision?” Sherlock asked, very quietly.

“I… I don’t remember. It’s already fading…”

Sherlock frowned, and turned away, pacing the floor for a minute, hands steepled in his usual thinking pose. Finally, he returned to his brother, who had gotten back onto the couch.

“I don’t see what we can do but work to prevent this future, _if_ it is a vision, at any rate,” Sherlock muttered, “But I don’t see how it _could_ be! You never had that kind of magic. You aren’t a seer. It doesn’t make any _sense,_ Merlin!”

Merlin shrugged. “Maybe it was triggered by something else?” he suggested.

Sherlock frowned, but his mind palace brought him no answer. “Go to sleep. We won’t let him find you.”

Merlin nodded, wiping the tears from his face with his sleeve. “At least I’m not roommates with Arthur anymore! He’d never let me live this down…”

Sherlock smirked, picturing the same situation had John seen him in that position. “I’m sure he wouldn’t.”

Merlin laughed, weakly. “You know, I must be crazy or something, because even after the whole reveal, I really miss everybody!”

Sherlock snorted. “You are crazy. I warned you that caring wasn’t an advantage. Alone protects people like us, Merlin.”

“Then how do you explain John?” Merlin asked, smirking back at him.

Sherlock didn’t answer.

“Well, ‘night Sherlock,” Merlin yawned, “Please do get at least _some_ sleep.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin. I have a case,” Sherlock scoffed.

“I’ll tell John…” Merlin warned.

“And by then it will be too late. I’m making progress. I need to get back to work. Stop having nightmares, they’re too distracting.” Sherlock replied, and turned back to his experiment.

“Hey… Sherlock,” Merlin whispered.

“What?” Sherlock asked, irritably.

“…Thanks…” his brother’s voice said, almost too softly to be heard.

Sherlock couldn’t suppress a small smile, as he turned back to see him once again curled up on the couch. “Goodnight, Merlin.”


	9. Camelot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin tells John a little bit about his school.

The next morning, Sherlock and Merlin were both very quiet. John couldn’t help but feel like he’d missed something. Again.

“Everything alright?” John asked Merlin.

The boy nodded. “Yeah, just missing my friends a little, that’s all…”

It was still odd to John how different Merlin was from Sherlock, who would never have said anything like that. “Oh? Maybe talking would help. Anyway, I barely know anything about you yet.”

Merlin looked surprised, but smiled. “Okay. What would you like to know?”

“I don’t know,” John replied, thinking, “Where do you go to school?”

“Camelot,” Merlin replied. “It’s a strange place, but I like it.”

“Hmm,” John answered, making some tea, “Strange how?”

“I don’t know. They have this whole medieval theme. It’s pretty weird. And strange things happen there all the time! But it _is_ a good place to go to school if you want to learn history, or legends. It’s a really old campus, modeled after a medieval kingdom with a castle right in the middle,” Merlin explained, eyes shining a little as he described the place that had been home to him for several years. “It’s beautiful. There’s this huge library, and so many corridors you think you’ll never find your classes your first year there! But you do, and there are still plenty of secret areas to discover. Our football team is really good. They’re called the Knights. My best friend, Arthur is the captain.”

“Arthur? What’s he like?” John asked, trying to picture the campus.

“Oh,” Merlin laughed, “He’s a total prat! He can be so annoying, and he’s always making fun of me. Such a supercilious dollophead! Actually, he reminds me a lot of Sherlock!”

John laughed too, especially when he saw the irritated look that flashed across Sherlock’s face. “Why are you friends with him then?” John asked.

“He compares Arthur to me, and you ask why they’re friends?” Sherlock asked, eyebrows raised, suspiciously, “Should I be offended?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” John assured him.

“Well,” Merlin replied, thoughtfully, “I don’t know… He does have a good heart, deep down. He only acts all arrogant because his father is Uther Pendragon.”

“Who?” John asked, puzzled.

“This rich, jerk of a guy with a lofty position in the government,” Merlin explained, “He has so much power he could compete with Mycroft!”

John was surprised. He hadn’t been aware that many people _could_ compete with Mycroft. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes, “And Arthur _never_ lets me forget it! He acts like he’s a prince or something!”

John snorted. “Sounds a little bit obnoxious.”

“Oh, he is! Especially because I’m his private tutor, so he thinks I’m like his manservant or something!” Merlin chuckled.

“His private tutor?” John asked.

“Merlin started college early and has already gotten his four year degree but returned for some additional education,” Sherlock explained, “But then Uther Pendragon came along and ordered him to help his son get through his schoolwork and set them up as roommates.”

Merlin smiled at the memory. “I was so mad to learn that I had to help him, especially because my first encounter with Arthur landed me in jail! But-”

“Hold on,” John interrupted him, _“Jail?”_

Merlin nodded. “Arthur was being his usual prat-ish self, and he was bullying some kid on campus, so naturally I tried to stop him and we got in a fight. Then he went and told his father. Luckily, Mycroft was able to get me out.”

“Um, wow. That’s a nice start to a friendship…” John replied, beginning to understand Merlin a little bit more.

“So then I somehow ended up saving his royal behind when we had this tremendous exam coming up, and so his father ‘rewarded’ me with a position as his tutor.” Merlin continued, rolling his eyes.

“That sounds awful!” John laughed, “What kind of reward is that?”

Merlin laughed too. “That’s what I said! We were both _horrified!_ But then we started having to be together and we became good friends, not that Arthur would ever admit it…”

“And look where it got you,” Sherlock pointed out.

Merlin looked away, suddenly upset. “Yeah…”

“What happened?” John asked.

“N-nothing,” Merlin stammered, “Just a, uh, falling out…”

“Sorry,” John told him. _That was pretty suspicious. Could it have something to do with his secret?_

Merlin shook his head. “What happens, happens, you know?” However, he still looked very upset.

“What about your other friends, then?” John asked, hoping to distract him.

“Well, I met Gwen when I defended that one guy from Arthur,” Merlin remembered, “She’s really nice. Not at all arrogant like him. A little shy, though.”

John nodded.

“And I got to know a lot of the Knights too, thanks to Arthur. Leon, Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, Lancelot…” his eyes clouded over with sadness, “May he rest in peace…”

John sighed. _Poor Merlin. I hadn’t realized he’d lost a friend…_

“Then there was Morgana, until she… Ehm, you know… Went bad. She used to be so kind, and so brave, and so helpful… And you know, she _was_ the only person who could make Arthur do what she wanted.” Merlin continued, chuckling sadly.

“Why? Was she his girlfriend?” John asked.

“Half-sister,” Sherlock explained, “Although she was thought to be Uther’s ward for a long time.”

“Until you visited,” Merlin muttered, annoyed. “Thanks for starting up that mess, by the way.”

“Morgause was visiting. They would have found out eventually,” Sherlock pointed out, smirking.

“Really?” John asked, rolling his eyes, “You deduced his friends?”

“It hardly matters. They didn’t turn out to be who Merlin thought they were anyway,” Sherlock defended himself.

Merlin frowned, sending Sherlock what looked like a warning glance. “No. They didn’t.”

Sherlock blinked, and for once looked a bit guilty as he looked over at John. “Um… yes. Why don’t you tell John about Gaius?”

Merlin stared back at him. “Sure… Gaius is the school physician. Since I started at Camelot, he’s been like a father to me.”

By this point, the room’s atmosphere practically crackled with discomfort.

John cleared his throat. “Ahem, ah, Sherlock. Don’t we have a case to work on…?”

His friend leapt to his feet. “Oh, yes. Come on. I have a new lead!”

John and Merlin exchanged a glance as Sherlock burst out of the flat, and followed him to get a cab.

“St. Bart’s.” Sherlock ordered, and off they went.


	10. What on Earth?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's off about the bodies of the victims.

Molly blushed when she saw Merlin, but didn’t question the trio as she smiled nervously at Sherlock and led them to the bodies. “Umm… here they are,” she squeaked, “Do you need any help with-”

“No, thank you Molly, you can go now,” Sherlock cut her off coldly, and with that he turned to the victims.

“So…” Merlin muttered awkwardly as Molly hurried to get out of their way, “What are we looking for, here?”

“Connections,” Sherlock replied, “These deaths can’t be as unrelated as they seem.”

“Any idea what’s going on then?” John asked, looking at the lined up corpses.

“Ten so far…” he replied, with a smirk, looking carefully at the bodies.

“Okay, eight.” He amended, still looking quite pleased with himself.

John blinked. “Well, please feel free to enlighten me at any time, because I haven’t the faintest idea of how any of this can be happening!”

“I may… eventually,” Sherlock commented, but did not explain, having already gone into his mind palace.

Merlin frowned. “Really? That’s all? You’re just going to access your mind palace again while we stand here waiting? Can we at least _try_ to deduce the bodies first?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. _“Ugh!_ Fine! John! What do you notice?”

John frowned. “Actually, no, that’s fine. I won’t notice anything anyway.”

Sherlock shook his head. _“Please_ , John? You are getting better!”

John rolled his eyes. “You just like to point out my mistakes.”

Sherlock smirked. “Well, maybe a little.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I’ll take a look.”

Sherlock nodded. “Merlin, make sure you use your… expertise with things.”

Merlin looked carefully over the bodies, frowning in concentration. After a long silence, he shook his head. “I don’t think my expertise is of any use here.”

“It never seems to be useful in this case, does it?” Sherlock scoffed, and turned back to the bodies.

“I think we should be glad of that,” Merlin pointed out, “I think I’d prefer _not_ to deal with that sort of problem right now.”

“At least it wouldn’t be so boring,” Sherlock mumbled. “Even the so-called ‘mysterious’ object was tediously dull.”

“Oh yeah?” John asked, “So you know what it is, then?”

Sherlock smiled, “I’m getting there, yes.”

“What?” Merlin asked, curiously, “What is it?”

“It’s not a rock,” Sherlock responded, unhelpfully.

“That’s it?” John asked.

“It’s _alive,”_ Sherlock explained, as if it was all ridiculously apparent, “It contains all of the elements found in living organisms!”

“That… thing is alive?” John asked, shocked.

“Yes, obviously,” Sherlock muttered.

“Well, what about the bodies, then?” Merlin asked, “What’s so special about them?”

Sherlock frowned. “Come on, it really _is_ obvious this time, even for an idiot! Can’t you see it?”

John walked up to the bodies, looking over them in confusion, when he suddenly looked alarmed. “Umm… Sherlock? What is _that?”_

“That,” Sherlock replied, “Is exactly what I mean. I told you, John! Child’s play!”

“But what _is_ it?!” John cried.

“What is what?” Merlin asked, puzzled.

“Look…” John explained, “That thing right there… At the base of the neck…”

Sherlock smiled to himself, pleased that someone besides him was thinking for once. Of course, his work here was already complete, but he could wait a little longer. Ordinary people could be so amusing sometimes. Irritating and insufferably stupid, yes, but amusing.

“It’s like… Some kind of growth?” John asked.

“They almost all have one,” Merlin commented, “That _is_ odd.”

“But… What is it?”

Merlin blinked, and then hesitantly looked up at Sherlock. “Wait… Is that…?”

“What?” John asked.

“It looks like… A budding tentacle. Like the ones on the rock-” Merlin began to explain, as he stared in utter shock at the round purple bulge.

“It’s not a rock!” Sherlock cut him off.

“Well, what do I call it then?!” Merlin pointed out.

Sherlock ignored him. “Well, you found the single most obvious clue. I suppose that’s more than should really be expected. Let’s go.”

“Where?” John asked.

“Back to the police box!” Sherlock cried, and dashed out the door past a rather startled Molly in the hallway.

“Tentacles? What on Earth is _wrong_ with this case?!” John muttered to himself.

“Exactly,” Merlin sighed, darkly, and hurried off after his brother.

John stared after him for a second, wondering if he’d heard right, and followed.


	11. Footprints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A vital clue is revealed.

“So it all comes back to this box, in the end?” Merlin asked Sherlock, staring at it in confusion.

Sherlock nodded. “There is definitely something going on here.”

John nodded. “But we already knew that!”

“It keeps getting more and more impossible, the more I look at it!” Sherlock muttered, “For instance, those footprints by the door!”

“What about them?” Merlin asked.

“There are two sets going out, but no footsteps entering…” Sherlock mused.

“Maybe… They were covered up?” John asked.

“By what?” Sherlock challenged him, “The weather has been sunny with no precipitation or wind and it is a crime scene so nobody could tamper with them. How could they be erased so perfectly?”

John shrugged. “Anderson?”

“He is a bumbling idiot, but then we’d probably be missing both sets of footprints, which explains why it couldn’t have been the girl we saw earlier either.” Sherlock explained.

“Of course,” John muttered. “But how could anyone exit something they’d never entered?”

Sherlock didn’t answer because he had already gone closer to the box to examine it.

Sherlock carefully scraped off a sample of the mud on one of the sides into a plastic bag to be tested later. He then proceeded to the phone and dialed it.

“Interesting,” he muttered.

“What is?” Merlin asked.

“It doesn’t work…” Sherlock told them, and quickly walked around the box.

“This case doesn’t make any sense!” John groaned.

“Wrong. It does make sense, but it would prove that a lot of your previous knowledge is incorrect, so you disregard the obvious as impossible.” Sherlock said, rolling his eyes.

“What is it then?” John asked.

“We promise to have an open mind,” Merlin added.

“I’m sure you’ve mostly worked it out, Merlin,” Sherlock said, staring at him.

“I… maybe. I don’t really want to believe it,” Merlin admitted.

“Well, John, Merlin. The only possible explanation for this box is that it has teleported from another location, where it was raining, hence the mud, with that girl and another person inside of it, which explains the lack of entering footprints. The other person was a man, rather tall but slightly thin, wearing converse and a long coat as far as the footprints reveal. It’s all rather obvious, if you keep an open mind.” Sherlock smirked, smugly, “Child’s play.”

John stared at him for a long time, unable to believe what he’d just heard. “Teleportation? _Seriously?!”_

“Yes, obviously. We’ll know more when I examine this mud,” Sherlock said, unfazed.

“Sherlock,” John spluttered, “I know we’re supposed to keep an open mind but… That’s bloody impossible! Isn’t it Merlin?!”

Merlin frowned. “Well…”

John couldn’t believe it. _“Seriously?!”_

Sherlock sighed, dramatically. “John, how often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?”

“But how? How could this box teleport like that? This is real life, not science fiction!” John groaned.

“I’m still working it out, unless Merlin’s expertise is finally coming in handy,” Sherlock replied, looking at his brother.

“I told you, Sherlock, none of that is at play here,” Merlin replied, troubled.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive!” Merlin cried, exasperated.

“Fine. I need to get a closer look at this mud,” Sherlock muttered.


	12. Lepidodendron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the last revelation, things can only get even more complicated.

To Sherlock’s great irritation, after the last look at the police call box Merlin and John were not about to let him examine the sample in peace.

“Have you found anything yet?” Merlin asked, nervously, but somewhat excitedly, as soon as he’d sat down.

“No.” Sherlock growled, “Quit interrupting me, Merlin!”

“Sherlock, this is insane!” John sighed, “We’re just missing something, or-”

“No. I am not wrong.” Sherlock responded.

“But you have to be!” John protested.

“Nope. Look at the evidence, John!”

“Teleportation has not been invented yet!” John cried.

Merlin shifted, awkwardly. “That is true, Sherlock. If this isn’t m- I mean, you know, my area, what could it possibly be?”

“I _could_ figure it out if you’d let me work!” Sherlock snapped.

“Fine.” The two said together, to Sherlock’s relief. He carefully took a small sample of mud out of the bag and situated it on a slide.

“Got anything?” Merlin blurted out.

“SHUT UP!” Sherlock cried, “I HAVEN’T EVEN HAD A CHANCE TO LOOK YET!”

“Okay, okay!” Merlin mumbled, turning away for a minute.

Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief.

“How about now?”

Sherlock stood up, furiously. “John. Get him out of here this instant.”

John gave him a look. “Come on, Merlin. He’ll be done soon enough.”

“Okay… Fine,” Merlin glared a little at his brother as the two left the lab.

“Finally,” Sherlock breathed, rolling his eyes.

He smoothed out the sample and adjusted his microscope, gradually increasing the magnification and putting it into focus, pleased to at last be getting something done.

“Hey, um, Sherlock? I’m sorry, but I was wondering if you needed anything?” Molly asked.

Sherlock slammed his fist on the table. “Get **_out!”_**

“Okay! Sorry!” Molly squeaked, racing from the lab.

Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief and continued his analysis.

“Interesting…” he muttered, “What’s this?”

He grabbed a pair of tweezers and tugged a long and narrow grass-like leaf out of the mud.

“Now we could be getting somewhere,” he mused, smiling.

He got a new slide out and lay the leaf down on it, focusing the microscope to examine it. He then quickly took some mental notes and accessed his mind palace.

_Strange… I don’t recognize this specimen._

Sherlock had been obsessed with botany in 4th year and had determinedly   studied a huge array of plant species from all over the world during his time of interest. He had refrained from deleting the knowledge due to its pertinence to cases when he needed to deduce a drug or poison in comparison to a regular plant and had even added to it over the years. It was rare that he ever came across a plant he didn’t recognize… So why was this one drawing a blank?!

“Molly!” he shouted, for once actually remembering that she too was a scientist. “Come and look at this!”

Molly hurried in to examine the leaf. “What is it?”

“Some form of plant I found buried in the mud sample from that police box,” he explained quickly. “Do you know what it is?”

“I thought you knew about plants,” Molly replied, hesitantly.

“I do!” he snapped, frustrated, “But this one… Why don’t I know it, Molly?! It doesn’t fit!”

Molly regarded the leaf for a moment, hesitantly, and then her eyes widened in alarm. “Hold on a minute…!”

She ran over to the other side of the room and came back holding a fossil.

“Does this look familiar? I was a bit of a paleontology enthusiast as a child,” she said, frowning.

Sherlock’s eyes flickered from the fossil to the leaf and back again. “Yes. What is it?”

“It’s a _Lepidodendron_ leaf… _”_ Molly said slowly, “Also known as a scale tree leaf.”

 _“Yes?_ So? Why are you giving me that look?” Sherlock asked, suspiciously.

“Sherlock… the _Lepidodendron_ lived mostly in the Carboniferous period andwent _extinct_ by the Mesozoic era!” Molly said in disbelief, “That leaf is fresh!”

Sherlock sat there in shock for a moment, beholding the ancient, perfectly preserved leaf and slowly a smile spread across his face. “YES! BRILLIANT!” he shouted, leaping up and down with undisguised excitement.

Merlin and John burst into the lab, beholding Sherlock as he bounced around the room with utter joy.

Molly just stared at him, mouth hanging open in shock. “Sherlock! Seriously, where did you get this?!”

“What’s going on?!” John cried, alarmed by the sudden change in his flatmate’s mood.

“Sherlock has a fresh leaf here from off of an _extinct_ tree!” Molly cried, still unable to believe it.

 _“WHAT?!”_ John and Merlin chorused.

“Of course!” Sherlock cried, “The box is not _only_ a teleportation machine, it’s a time machine as well!”

“A _what?!”_ The others cried.

“A… time machine,” Sherlock said, slowly. “Which means it could leave the crime scene and disappear at any time… _to_ any time… Even as we speak… We’ve got to go back there!”

The others exchanged a shocked glance and sprinted out of St. Bart’s after him.


	13. Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock arrives upon his conclusion far too late to stop the escape of his suspects.

“Hey! There’s that girl again!” Merlin called out as the four sprinted from their cab towards the blue police box.

“And he has the guy with her,” John added, “Who looks just like you said, Sherlock! Tall, thin, long coat, converse…”

“Yes, yes, of course!” Sherlock muttered, and then his voice rose in what was almost a panic. “THEY’RE HEADING FOR THE BOX! CATCH THEM!!!”

The four all sped up, even Merlin, crying out to their suspects.

“Stop right there!” Merlin shouted.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” yelled John.

“Sherlock! _What_ is going on?!” cried Molly, still confused.

“That is a crime scene! Leave at once!” Sherlock roared.

The man and the woman suddenly froze, turning swiftly around. The girl motioned excitedly at them and the guy beamed, waving excitedly. They then turned around and ran into the box.

“Seems a bit small for two, doesn’t it?” Merlin remarked, raising an eyebrow.

“NO!” Sherlock cried, frantically, “They’ll get away!”

Suddenly the four froze as the box grew almost transparent, slowly dematerializing before their eyes with the most otherworldly sound they’d ever heard.

_Vworp vworp vworp…_

“NO!” Sherlock shouted, “They can’t!”

It was too late.

The box was gone.


	14. What Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is disappointed in light of their recent failure.

Sherlock was very quiet that night back at 221B, and lay curled up on Merlin’s couch facing the wall without saying a single word to either John or his brother in a rather intimidatingly furious pout. John and Merlin watched him anxiously.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Merlin asked, quietly.

“I don’t know. Poor Sherlock… He doesn’t like losing…” John commented, softly.

“No, he doesn’t,” Merlin agreed.

They stared at Sherlock, as if trying to deduce him, but the detective showed no signs of moving or reacting.

“Are you alright over there Sher?” Merlin asked, hesitantly.

“I’m fine! Just leave me alone!” came Sherlock’s muffled voice.

“Come on, you’ll find them again!” Merlin assured him.

“They could be anywhere in history, Merlin!” Sherlock snapped, “If I had only realized it was a time machine earlier… It was so _simple,_ Merlin! How could I have missed it?!”

“I’m afraid I didn’t really help with that,” John said, guiltily. “Sorry for doubting you, Sher.”

“Don’t _ever_ use that name again, John!” Sherlock warned him, humiliated.

John and Merlin snickered, but then John looked back at him in concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Sherlock scowled and didn’t answer. He hated being pitied. Being pitied meant that he appeared weak. He hated being weak. He _wasn’t_ weak. He was fine!

“You still have your other clues, right?” John asked, after realizing that his stubborn flatmate wasn’t planning on answering.

Sherlock shrugged. “To investigate what? Finally an interesting case turns up and it just dematerializes?!”

“There will be other cases,” John pointed out.

“But those cases are _boring!”_ Sherlock complained, flipping over onto his back and throwing his arms wide in exasperation.

Merlin sighed. “Sherlock. Be rational!”

“You’re the irrational one, Merlin! Don’t tell me what to do!” Sherlock snapped.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Come on. Think about it. Actually think about it. How many murders have there been so far?”

“Eight,” Sherlock muttered.

“All in one time period?” Merlin asked sarcastically, “And that blue box keeps popping up by _all_ of them?”

Sherlock suddenly sat up, wide awake. “You’re right,” he cried, “The game is still on!”

“Yep,” Merlin replied, yawning.

“I have to keep collecting evidence,” Sherlock thought aloud, leaping to his feet and beginning to pace. “There’s so much more to this case than one police box…”

“How about tomorrow?” John sighed.

“Yes, tomorrow sounds good,” Merlin agreed, rubbing his eyes. “It’s 11 o’clock, Sherlock!”

“Sleep is a waste of time,” Sherlock argued.

“You need to get more sleep or you’re going to make yourself sick,” John pointed out.

“I don’t get _sick_ John!” Sherlock scoffed, “Sick is for ordinary people!”

Noticing Merlin’s teasing expression, he quickly covered his brother’s mouth. Merlin protested with a loud _“Mmmrmf!”_

“Well I don’t see any time machines in _your_ flat, Sherlock,” John pointed out, casually, as Merlin struggled to free himself from his brother, “Maybe you’re more normal than you thought!”

“Ha!” Merlin laughed, having finally wrestled Sherlock’s hand away from his mouth.

“Shut up. Fine. I’ll go to bed,” Sherlock muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Good,” John responded, glaring at him as he headed for his own room.

When he was gone, Merlin turned to his brother. “You’re not going to bed, are you?”

“Nope!” Sherlock replied, cheerfully.

Merlin sighed, “Of course you aren’t…”


	15. Foolish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin makes a reckless decision that could get him kicked off the team for good.

Sherlock smiled slightly as he spoke into the phone. “Yes, where was it spotted, Lestrade?”

There was a murmur of reply over the other end of the phone, after which Sherlock immediately hung up. “They’ve found the box!” he cried.

John blinked tiredly, yawning. “Really? So soon?”

“We have to hurry; nothing’s happened yet!” Sherlock said rapidly, pulling on his scarf and dashing out the door.

“Great!” cried Merlin, “We can save whoever’s next on their list!”

“Who cares, Merlin?” yelled Sherlock’s voice, “We’ll have new evidence!”

The three of them ran out the doors and hurried to get into a cab, which took them quickly, (with some monetary persuasion,) to the new location of the box. There they ducked quickly behind some bushes to wait for their suspects to appear.

Suddenly, a small girl, probably no more than six ran out from around the corner of a nearby building pursued closely by the guy from before with the long brown coat and gravity defying hair, with the blond girl from before bringing up the rear.

“There they are!” cried Merlin.

“SHHHH!” hissed John, “Don’t give us away!”

“But… what are they…” Merlin whispered, watching wide-eyed as the two advanced the little girl.

“Merlin,” Sherlock said suddenly, “Look away.”

“But…” Merlin gasped, “Sherlock! We have to help her!”

“Merlin,” Sherlock repeated, sternly, “I said look away!”

Merlin glared at him. “I’ve seen plenty of horrible things since I started at Camelot, Sherlock! You don’t need to protect me! I have to stop them! They’ll kill her!”

“Merlin! Are you listening to me?!” Sherlock asked, furiously.

“You’re not the boss of me!” Merlin shot back.

Sherlock swore as his brother leapt recklessly to his feet and ran after the man and woman. _“MERLIN!”_

John’s eyes widened. “What the bloody _hell_ is he doing?! Merlin! Get back here!”

“John…” Sherlock said suddenly, realizing it was too late to stop his brother, “John, please just do something for me.”

“What?!” John cried, still looking frantically after Merlin, who was almost to the suspects. He was going to get himself killed!

“Forgive me…” Sherlock muttered, and with that he tackled him to the ground.

John swore. _“Sherlock!”_

As Sherlock struggled to keep his flatmate’s head pressed into the cement, the street lit up with a blinding white light.

“Sherlock!” came John’s muffled voice, “Sherlock, what _is_ that?!”

“The time machine,” Sherlock lied, looking around anxiously for his foolish little brother despite the complete absence of his vision. _Why the magic?! Why now?!_

When the light finally cleared, the girl and the two suspects were gone.

“Merlin!” Sherlock yelled, letting John up as he searched for him.

Merlin peeked nervously out from where he was hiding behind the phone box, and after quickly scanning for the suspects, ran back to Sherlock and John.

“What did you do?” Sherlock whispered, eyes burning with fury.

Merlin opened his mouth to answer, but Sherlock cut him off. “Don’t answer that. We’ll talk about it later.”

Merlin frowned. “But I was sensible! I didn’t put myself in any real danger and everything turned out okay!”

John stared at him. “I don’t know what the hell Sherlock thought he was doing a minute ago, but he’s right! Those two could have seen you! They’re obviously our murderers! You could have gotten yourself killed!”

Merlin hung his head. “I know, but-”

“You broke our agreement,” Sherlock snarled.

“I’m sorry…” Merlin said, quietly.

“That’s it!” Sherlock yelled, “You are off this case! I knew this was a bad idea… Did I not _tell_ you this was a bad idea, John?”

Merlin looked desperately at John, willing him to understand.

“You did,” John responded, “I should have listened.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sherlock said, coolly, “You didn’t know what a selfless idiot my brother can be!”

“Hey!” Merlin protested, hurt.

“Merlin,” John scolded, “You can’t do that sort of thing! We were worried sick!”

“I’m not a baby!” Merlin argued, cheeks heating up furiously, “I can handle myself!”

“Well, why don’t you then?” Sherlock shouted back.

Merlin blinked, tears coming to his eyes. “You know what? _Fine!”_ he yelled, running off down the streets.

Suddenly, it seemed to hit Sherlock that what he’d said was wrong. “MERLIN! MERLIN WAIT! _STOP!”_

John watched in disbelief as Sherlock shouted desperately after his little brother, but Merlin did not come back.


	16. He Really Prefers to Text

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is worried over his brother's disappearance. Some things about their childhoods are revealed.

Sherlock and John searched for Merlin for hours, but the boy had disappeared, almost as if by magic. Sherlock barely spoke, other than calling out for him, and after only a few hours it was as apparent as it was going to get for a self-proclaimed sociopath that he was desperately worried.

“Hello? Sherlock?” Detective Lestrade said over the phone.

Sherlock took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. “Merlin’s missing,” he said, quickly, “You have to help me find him!”

Back in his office, Lestrade pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. This was not going to be an easy conversation. “Look, Sherlock… How long has he been missing?”

“A few hours now,” Sherlock replied, “But-”

“You know that’s too soon to launch an investigation,” Lestrade reminded him.

“Obviously,” Sherlock snorted, “But you don’t understand! Merlin is a risk to himself! He’s bound to go off and do something dangerous! He’s always off sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, trying to save everyone and-”

“Okay, Sherlock,” Lestrade sighed, “I understand, but rules are rules and-”

“Lestrade…” Sherlock said, quietly, “I’m scared.”

A chill crept up the detective inspector’s spine. _Sherlock? Scared_? Lestrade was shocked, to say the least. He’d never heard Sherlock sound so emotional before.

“I’m so scared…” Sherlock repeated, voice shaking slightly, “What if he gets himself killed out there?”

“Sherlock…” Lestrade said softly. He’d never heard the arrogant, sociopathic consulting detective sound less like himself.

“He’s probably after the murderers, even now!” Sherlock muttered, “The idiot already nearly got himself hurt trying to stop one…”

“Do you know what happened or where he’s gone?” Lestrade asked, feeling nervous despite himself at Sherlock’s worry.

“If I knew where he was, why would I be calling?” Sherlock asked coolly.

“Alright, do you know what happened, then?” Lestrade asked.

“It was all my fault,” Sherlock sighed, “I snapped at him. I should have known better… He always has been so sensitive… But regardless… The question _was_ can you find him?”

Lestrade took another deep breath, “Sherlock. This is outside our jurisdiction.”

“But-” Sherlock argued.

 _“However,”_ he cut him off, “I would be willing to personally help you look for your brother as myself, instead of as my role as detective inspector.”

Sherlock sighed, relieved. “Come to my flat,” he ordered, and quickly hung up.

“Are you okay?” John asked him.

“Do I look okay to you, John?” Sherlock retorted, sharply.

“Alright…” John said quietly, “How about some tea?”

As he made some, he looked over at his flatmate. “I’m worried about him too, you know, but Merlin’s right. He is an adult. He’ll be okay for one night.”

“No, you’re wrong,” Sherlock muttered, “You don’t know Merlin, not like I do. He thinks with his heart, not his head. When he feels he can help, no matter what the cost to himself, he feels it’s his duty to be involved. Emotions are dangerous, John. And now I’ve gotten him all upset. He always was so sensitive… Foolish.”

“But it’s late now,” John pointed out, “Our murderers are time travelers. Why would they attack at night when they could go into that box and head straight into morning?”

“But there are so many other things he could get involved in,” Sherlock sighed, “And he doesn’t have anywhere to go! Remember when I told you about Merlin’s secret and how it was putting his life at risk?”

“Yes…?” John replied.        

“What if it gets revealed out there? What if they find him?!”

“Who?” John asked, confused, “Who’s ‘they’?”

“Uther and his people,” Sherlock replied, darkly.

“Wait a minute… Uther’s after Merlin?!” John cried.

“Yes, obviously, I just said that!” Sherlock groaned.

“But then… He really is in serious danger!” John gasped, “If Uther really is anything like Mycroft, he’ll have eyes all over the city!”

Sherlock frowned. “Hold on a minute, say that again.”

“He’ll have eyes all over the-”

“No, no! Not that! The part about Mycroft! That’s it! I’m so _stupid!_ Why didn’t I think of this before…?” Sherlock cried, fishing out his phone again.

At the same time, his phone began ringing.

Sherlock answered it.

“Hello brother dear,” came Mycroft’s voice, “I do believe I have who you are looking for.”

“Why didn’t you call me earlier?!” Sherlock snapped, furiously.

“Aw, were you worried about little Merlin? Well, don’t be. He’s in more responsible hands now.” Mycroft replied, smugly.

“Let me speak to him,” Sherlock demanded.

“I’m afraid Merlin does not wish to speak with you at the moment,” Mycroft replied, “He’s rather upset with you.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “He has no right. Do you know what he was doing earlier, Mycroft?!”

There was a brief pause before Mycroft answered. “He says he doesn’t want to talk about it. What did he do?”

“John,” Sherlock said, pointedly, and his flatmate nodded and left the room. (Three Holmes brothers at once were a bit too much for him anyway.)

“He approached our murderers, determined to stop a crime in progress, and used magic in the middle of a public street!” Sherlock growled, softly so John couldn’t hear.

 _“What?”_ Mycroft asked, darkly, and for a while afterwards Sherlock could hear loud arguing over the other end of the phone.

“He was foolish, but he did what he perceived as right,” Mycroft admitted when he finally returned.

“I don’t care. He is going to get himself hurt!”

“I’m right here with him. He is fine.”

Sherlock took a deep breath. “Mycroft, he is not fine!”

“Of course he is. I don’t know why he came to you in the first place.” Mycroft answered him, loftily.

“Because _I_ was actually a brother to him!” Sherlock snapped.

“That’s hardly my fault. I was already in college when he was a toddler.” Mycroft pointed out.

“Exactly. You were always too busy with school or your career to ever spend time with him,” Sherlock said, bitterly, “Just like mother.”

“Don’t blame her. You know how hard it was for her, working all the time to support us after father died.” Mycroft pleaded.

“Yeah, well, try telling that to Merlin, who had to figure out his scary, confusing secret almost all on his own!” Sherlock retorted.

Mycroft fell silent for a moment. “You know we weren’t exactly easy children to raise-”

“Oh, I know all about that Mycroft! The question _is_ how would _you?_ You barely even knew our brother until he was all grown up!” Sherlock accused him, sharply.

There was a brief silence over which Sherlock could just make out Merlin crying softly in the background.

“I raised you didn’t I?” Mycroft asked.

“Until you grew too important,” Sherlock replied, icily.

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” Mycroft responded; then, after a brief pause, “Merlin wants to speak with you.”

“I’m sorry Sherlock!” Merlin said quickly, “I shouldn’t have run away! It was childish of me.”

“It’s okay, Merlin. I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Sherlock sighed, “But please! No more dangerous heroics, okay?”

“I’m sorry…” Merlin repeated, quietly.

“Seriously though? Mycroft?” Sherlock asked, unable to keep a bit of hurt out of his voice.

“Where else was I supposed to go?” Merlin pointed out.

“Certainly not there! Think, Merlin! Even if Mycroft were not obnoxious, fat and arrogant, which he is, where does he work?”

“The British Gov- Ohhhhh! Right…” Merlin gasped, suddenly realizing his mistake.

“Exactly. Get out of there, Merlin, fast,” Sherlock ordered.

“But ‘Croft will protect me from Uther, won’t you ‘Croft?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes at Merlin’s ridiculous nickname for his brother, although admittedly Mycroft liked it just as much as Sherlock secretly liked his.

“Not for very long. He’s the only reason why you haven’t been caught yet. But nothing remains a secret from Uther for long…”Sherlock warned.

“You’re right,” Merlin whispered, nervously, “I really _do_ need to get out of here!”

“Yes,” Sherlock confirmed, rolling his eyes. Putting himself in danger, again! What was wrong with that boy?!

“But um… I…” Merlin stuttered.

Sherlock sighed, shaking his head, “Merlin.”

“Yeah?”

“You can come back here, if you want.”

Merlin let out a relieved gasp. “Thank you, Sherlock! I’m sorry I broke our agreement, I really am! I just couldn’t stand by to watch anyone else die…”

“I know,” Sherlock admitted, “But don’t think this is all getting you out of trouble.”

“…I know,” Merlin sighed.

“See you soon,” Sherlock told him, and hung up before the phone could get back to Mycroft.


	17. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's lack of sleep hasn't done him any favors.

Soon enough, Merlin was back at 221B, to everyone’s immense relief.

Well, everyone’s except of course, for Mycroft’s. Despite his lack of obvious emotions, he was a little bit upset that he hadn’t had more time to be with his baby brother himself, especially when he had indeed seen so little of him for most of his life. However, Sherlock had been right of course, and Mycroft had to acknowledge it. It simply wasn’t safe for Merlin to be anywhere that could attract Uther’s notice.

And so Merlin moved back into the flat with John and Sherlock, and despite his brother’s earlier threat was back to working the case with them in a matter of days, although under noticeably closer supervision.

However, it was not Merlin who wound up getting into trouble.

“Sherlock, how long has it been since you last slept?”

“I told you John, I’ve been sleeping plenty!” Sherlock replied, irritably, even as he almost tripped walking towards the door.

“Well, you’ve been acting awfully out of it for someone who’s been ‘sleeping plenty.’” John pointed out, “Maybe you need a day off.”

“I’m fine!” Sherlock protested again, pulling on his coat and scarf and getting ready to set off. “The box won’t be here for much longer! I have to go back to see it!”

Merlin sighed. “Sherlock, you really should listen to John. Like it or not, you are a human, and according to _science_ humans need sleep. And food, for that matter.”

“What would you know? Everyone can see that you were forced to give most of yours to Arthur.” Sherlock scoffed.

Merlin frowned. “That’s different.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Is it now?”

John rolled his eyes. “Does your entire family just starve themselves?!”

“Not Mycroft,” Sherlock replied immediately.

“He eats a lot of cake,” Merlin added, smirking.

“Uh… right. Okay then. We’re having a big breakfast today, and we’re all going to eat, Holmes or not.” John said, determinedly.

“Not hungry,” Merlin replied, quietly, “Thanks.”

“Eating is a waste of time. Dull!” Sherlock scoffed, and continued toward the door.

Suddenly, however, he froze and burst into a loud fit of coughing.

Merlin and John stared at him in awe.

“I knew it! I told you you’d get sick!” John cried triumphantly.

“I don’t get _sick_ John,” Sherlock hissed, disgusted by the thought, “There is simply some dust in the air. Mrs. Hudson should really do a better job of cleaning up!”

“I’m not your housekeeper!” came an irritated voice from downstairs.

Merlin snorted. “Oh yeah, like you’ve never been sick before! Don’t make me laugh!”

“Never for long,” Sherlock relented, not exactly helping his case by letting out a small sneeze.

“Gee, I wonder why that was?” Merlin asked, sarcastically, earning him a gentle cuff and a glare from his brother.

“Shut _up,_ Merlin.”

“You and Arthur would be great friends,” Merlin muttered.

“I don’t _need_ friends,” Sherlock fumed.

“Whatever. You do need to rest,” John sighed, sticking a thermometer in his ear before he could react.

 _“Ow!_ What was that?!” Sherlock protested.

“A thermometer for foolish little children who refuse to have their temperature taken,” John replied.

“I know what it is!” Sherlock snapped, “Why was it in my ear?!”

“So I could prove to you that you’re acting like a child,” John sighed, “Look at this! You’re burning up!”

“I’m fine,” Sherlock persisted.

“Let me see that,” Merlin muttered, taking the thermometer from John.

 _“Sherlock!”_ he gasped, “Oh my god! And you wanted to investigate?!”

“What doesn’t feel good?” John asked, getting into doctor mode.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Sherlock protested.

“Honestly! I would have thought you’d have grown out of lying about being sick by now, Sherlock!” Merlin cried, “It’s just like when we were kids and mummy had to post guards at the door to keep you in bed!”

“Is that all we need to do?” John asked.

Sherlock frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about! Getting sick has been deleted from my mind palace. I do not do ‘sick!’”

John rolled his eyes. “Give up, Sherlock! I’m a doctor, remember? Now where does it hurt?!”

Sherlock frowned, stubbornly. “Nowhere.”

“I am going to call Lestrade and tell him not to let you work any more cases until you get some rest!” John warned.

“Better yet, call Mycroft and have him take care of poor Sherlock while he’s ill,” Merlin giggled.

Sherlock’s eyes went wide. “Fine,” he groaned, “You win!”

“We only want to keep you safe,” John pointed out, “Now I’m going to ask one last time, where does it hurt?”

Sherlock sighed. “My throat, my head, my ears, and my stomach.”

Merlin whistled. “You are _so_ not going out of this flat today!”

His brother glared at him.

John shook his head. “He’s right, Sherlock. What you need is rest.” He left for a minute, and returned with some pills. “These will help with the pain.”

Sherlock groaned. “No! I have to investigate today!”

“Well,” Merlin replied, brightly, “We could always investigate for you! Where do you need us to go?”

“Leaving Sherlock here alone, Merlin? Not the best idea,” John pointed out.

“Well, Mrs. Hudson will be here…” Merlin muttered.

“…I guess that’s okay, then,” John admitted, “Sherlock?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No,” John replied firmly.

“Fine. I need you two to investigate the blue box, while it’s still there,” he informed them between coughs.

“Great!” Merlin cried, secretly excited that he got to do some detective work without being constantly criticized, “We’d better get going, then!”

As Merlin ran out the door, Sherlock stopped John for a moment from following him. “John… Look after Merlin,” he pleaded, “You know what he’s like now. Don’t let him wander off, or do anything stupid, or…”

“It’s okay,” John cut him off, “You can count on me. Get well soon, Sherlock!”

Sherlock frowned, annoyed. “Oh, trust me. I will…”

He had an experiment to formulate his own medicine planned already.


	18. Amateur Consulting Detectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and John attempt to continue the investigation, despite Sherlock's absence.

Merlin and John stared intently at the police public call box, each trying and spectacularly failing at making any deductions even somewhat worthy of the world’s only consulting detective.

“Well…” Merlin said at last, with a weak little laugh, “It’s blue…”

John sighed, shaking his head, “I just don’t know _how_ he does it! I mean… well… I do know _how_ , but I just can’t! When he explains his deductions, it sounds so easy! Even obvious, like he says! But trying to deduce for myself…”

Merlin nodded, “Oh, trust me! I know! I _was_ the only child in our household who couldn’t pull it off…”

John turned to him, surprised. Just trying to imagine a household of all three Holmes boys as children made his brain want to explode. (Their poor mother…) But now he was shocked to find that he had never actually considered what growing up with two geniuses like Mycroft and Sherlock would have been like for Merlin. “Sorry…” he said awkwardly, still a little bit shocked that Merlin had even told him anything more about his life when he was usually so private.

“Oh, don’t be!” Merlin hurriedly assured him, “It’s certainly not your fault! It’s just, you know, it was hard. As a kid, I mean… When I was younger, I used to run around trying so hard to make deductions and then Sherlock would find me and just sort of laugh.”

John snorted. That sounded like him.

Merlin suddenly grew very quiet, eyes slightly glazed over as he stared off into the distance at apparently nothing at all. “Sometimes I used to wonder if that was why she was never around. Because I was such a disappointment.”

John blinked, once again shocked. “Sorry… who?” _Does he mean his mother?_

Merlin shook himself and looked up like he’d just noticed John was there, turning a little bit pink. “Oh… I uh, never mind. It hardly matters. Sorry to bother you with that, John.”

John stared back at him, a little bit concerned. “No, it’s quite alright.”

Suddenly, his pocket buzzed.

**Found anything? –SH**

John sighed.

**Not yet. –JW**

“Sherlock?” Merlin guessed, knowingly.

John nodded. “He wants to know how the case is going.” His mobile buzzed again.

**I could come and help. –SH**

John rolled his eyes. Typical Sherlock.

 **No, you could not.** **You are staying in bed, Sherlock. –JW**

**Bed, bed is boring. –SH**

“He’s trying to get out of staying in the flat, isn’t he?” Merlin asked, smirking.

“Of course he is! It’s Sherlock! But he’s not getting away with it,” John muttered, continuing to text his persistent flatmate.

Merlin nodded, “Good.”

**John –SH**

**John I’m bored –SH**

John sighed and got back to typing out a reply.

**Still no. –JW**

**I’ll do whatever you want! –SH**

John had to admit, that was almost tempting, but Sherlock needed his rest.

**Sherlock, go back to bed. –JW**

**John, please! –SH**

John snorted. _As if!_

**I’m so bored! –SH**

**Nope. -JW**

**I’ll do anything! –SH**

**Nope. –JW**

**I’ll get milk! –SH**

John stopped for a second, looking back over the message as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Which he couldn’t. Sherlock **never** got the milk.

**Did you say you’ll get the milk? –JW**

**Yes. Obviously. I’ll get the milk. Just let me leave this insufferable flat! –SH**

John took a deep breath. _I just hope we still_ have _the flat when we get back…_

**Still no. Don’t destroy anything valuable, okay? –JW**

**I may just, John. I’m awfully bored. –SH**

**Yes, you did say that. Several times, actually. –JW**

**THIS FLAT IS SO DULL! –SH**

**Way to branch out, Sherlock. Why don’t you watch telly or something? –JW**

Sherlock predictably ignored that suggestion.

**You took longer to answer when I said I’d get milk. That means you considered it. –SH**

“Unbelievable,” John hissed in annoyance.

“What is?” Merlin asked, coming over to look over his shoulder.

**My mobile was in my pocket and I was busy. –JW**

**Oh please. Like I can’t tell the difference! –SH**

**Well, now you’re definitely not leaving! –JW**

John was just putting his mobile away in his pocket when it suddenly buzzed again.

**What if I also get jam? –SH**

John frowned. That was low. That was very low indeed.

“Don’t give in John,” Merlin warned him.

“But he’s going to get _jam,_ Merlin…” John whispered, staring uncomprehendingly at the little glowing screen.

“I can’t believe you,” Merlin sighed, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation, “I’ll get you a whole cartful of jam later! Just tell him no!”

John blinked and shook himself. _What am I thinking? It’s just… jam…_

**No and that’s final. –JW**

Bzzt! John looked one last time.

**I hate you. –SH**

John rolled his eyes and turned off his phone. Honestly! Sherlock could be such an overgrown child sometimes!

“So, Merlin,” he began, “About that case… Clearly we are getting nothing from looking at this box. Where to now?”

Merlin shrugged. “I suppose we could check the inside,” he suggested, frowning.

John winced, not exactly relishing the images his imagination conjured up of Sherlock’s reaction to being told that his brother had been carried back in time to meet a live _Lepidodendron._ “Or… maybe not.”

Merlin looked almost relieved. “Yeah… For some reason I don’t exactly fancy looking in there either. But what do we do now, if not look in the box?” He didn’t want to go home and have to tell Sherlock they hadn’t found anything. This was his one chance to do some actual detective work without his brother breathing down his neck, telling him that everything he said was idiotic and wrong. This was going to be a productive day! He would be sure of it.

John shrugged. “I suppose we could interview some of the local residents.”

Merlin nodded. “That could work. There are plenty of places to ask around, at any rate.”

The box was in the middle of an alleyway of sorts, loosely surrounded by a plethora of flats on one side of the street and some tall shrubbery separating it from another wider open sort of street on the other. Although the entire area appeared rather run-down, deserted and littered with trash, many of the flats had the lights on inside and appeared to be in use.

“What I want to know,” Merlin continued, “Is if you had a time machine that could take you anywhere, why would you stop here?”

“Now _that,”_ John said thoughtfully, “Is an excellent point.”

“Well,” Merlin said with a shrug, “I’d want to go to a place and time where something big and interesting was happening, wouldn’t you? Or at least a place that doesn’t smell like Arthur’s dirty socks after practice…” He wrinkled his nose in distaste, shuddering at the memory.

John laughed. “Of course! And our two travelers don’t appear to be the type to pass up some excitement. In fact, I do believe you’ve found a new lead!”

Merlin blinked in confusion. He hadn’t been consciously thinking up a lead, just entertaining an interesting thought. “I… have? How? What sort of lead?”

“If we can find out what’s drawing our travelers here then we can find them and solve the case!” John cried triumphantly.

Merlin nodded excitedly, flashing John a bright, goofy grin. “So if we ask around to find the what we can unravel the who and the why! Which hopefully will also get us the when and where too… Although that may prove difficult as time travel is involved… Maybe we should focus on how…”

John just stared at him shaking his head in befuddlement. How any sane person could manage to make less sense than Sherlock on one of his long winded technical explanations was beyond him. “Sorry… What?”

“Yes, exactly,” Merlin confirmed, “First we need to find the what which will give us the who and the why.”

“Wait… how?” John asked, still completely lost.

“No, no,” Merlin corrected him, “How comes later.”

John thought for a moment, and then frowned. “But won’t we get that from who which we got from what?”

“What?” Merlin asked, now puzzled himself.

“Yes, what,” John confirmed, “Which gives us why and how.”

“Well what if who refuses to tell us how?” Merlin argued.

“By that logic they could withhold why,” John pointed out, but then shook his head. “You know what?”

“Not yet,” Merlin replied, grinning.

“This is pointless,” John continued with a sigh, ignoring Merlin’s comment, “Let’s just go already.”

“To find the what?” Merlin asked, enjoying the confusing conversation perhaps a bit too much.

John winced. “Let’s not call it that.”

Merlin laughed. “Okay then! Let’s go find our big, interesting, time-travel worthy, murder attracting event, courtesy of the friendly neighborhood gossips!”

John giggled. “Come on Merlin, stop! We sound ridiculous! What if someone was listening?”

“They’d probably think we’re mad,” Merlin replied, matter-of-factly, “But okay. Good point. Let’s go.”

The two nodded to each-other, and after quickly setting up a plan to each interview every other flat going from opposite ends of the street so they didn’t bother the same people twice, they set off to begin asking.


End file.
